The Euros over, thoughts turn to the World Cup qualifiers. The recent chaos in Bosnia-Herzegovina suggests they are unlikely to provide much of an obstacle for Spain, but at least they can reflect that they're better off than their last opponents, Azerbaijan, who find themselves in a group with Germany, Russia, Finland, Wales and Liechtenstein, and, worse, have Berti Vogts at their helm.

There is no situation so farcical that Vogts can't make it more so. When it comes to football and the ridiculous, he really is the master. The former Germany, Scotland and Nigeria coach has achieved some heights of haplessness before – justifying to the media why he'd left a particular player out of his Scotland squad when he'd merely been left off the photocopied lists distributed to journalists is a particular favourite – but in Bosnia a month ago he took things to new levels. The Bosnian Football Federation (NSBiH) had pushed hard but, like all the true greats, when the pressure was on, Vogts responded.

The story begins in January, when the former Barcelona forward Meho Kodro was appointed manager of Bosnia-Herzegovina. He still lived in Spain, and had taken a job at Real Sociedad as assistant to another former Barcelona player, Jose Mari Bakero. When the NSBiH approached him, Kodro said he would take the job, but only if he could carry on living in San Sebastián and only if they could guarantee his complete independence. Delighted to have somebody of such stature to replace Fuad Muzurovic, they agreed.

And then the NSBiH arranged a friendly away to Iran for the last Wednesday in May. Iran and Bosnia have a close relationship - Iran were the independent Bosnia's first opponents back in 1993, the FK Sarajevo side that fled the siege were welcomed in Tehran by Ali Akhbar Rafsanjahni, and the Bosnia-born Ciro Blazevic coached their national side – but Kodro was furious. He said he had no intention of dragging players all that way for a meaningless game at this stage of the season. Far better, he thought, to spend the time preparing in Sarajevo for the match at home to Azerbaijan. After initial talks, the NSBiH said they'd think about it.

A few days later, it emerged that a contract had already been signed. Kodro erupted. This, he pointed out, was exactly the sort of interference he had been so desperate to avoid: determining opponents and arranging fixtures, he believed, was his business. The players, complaining of fatigue, supported him, but the NSBiH were adamant.

And then there were the terms of the contract itself. The NSBiH said they would receive US$120,000 to play the game, but the Iranians let slip that they were paying US$300,000. It had been asked why the NSBiH were so set on playing the game: suddenly it became apparent that certain members of their committee had 180,000 very good reasons.

With it clear that the game couldn't go ahead, the NSBiH committee met on Friday May 16, and, after an eight-hour meeting, decided Kodro had to be fired. And so, 131 days after he was appointed, Kodro was dismissed – not that anybody at the NSBiH bothered to tell him. "Ridiculous," said Kodro's assistant Elvir Bolic. "This is just another farce perpetrated by individuals who are taking Bosnian football nowhere."

But that wasn't the end of it. The Bosnian media, appalled, vowed en masse to boycott the national team until Kodro was reinstated. By good chance, a charity game had already been arranged to be played in Sarajevo at the same time as the Bosnia's game against Azerbaijan in Zenica, so they began promoting that instead.

The youth team coach Denijal Piric was given the unenviable task of taking over from Kodro. Of the squad he named, the Rangers defender Sasa Papac, the Lokomotiv Moscow defender Emir Spahic and Wolfsburg's Zvjezdan Misimovic all openly refused to play, while 16 other players succumbed to mysterious ailments or discovered unavoidable family commitments.

Piric began driving round Sarajevo, knocking on the doors of players to see if they were available. He sent a fax to NK Posusje telling them that Krstanovic had been called up, but given there are two Krstanovics at the club, nobody knew which one he meant. In the Hotel Herzegovina, where the squad was supposed to be meeting up, there was chaos. Nobody recognised anybody. The kit-man, seeing a player wander in, thrust a key in his hand and told him to go to room 212 and hurry up and get changed, only to discover that it wasn't a player at all, but a local meeting his girlfriend for an ice cream.

Fan groups backed the boycott. In the final six days before the game, only five tickets were sold through official sources. State television decided to show the charity game, in which many of the 19 refuseniks played. It is estimated that somewhere between 15,000 and 20,000 fans turned up at the Kosevo Stadium to watch, many brandishing banners calling for the NSBiH committee to stand down. In Zenica, meanwhile, 250 police officers stood around providing security for a crowd of around 150 in a stadium that can hold 100 times that. With his scratch squad, Piric admitted he wasn't worrying about the score, just fulfilling the fixture to avoid Fifa sanctions.

Enter Vogts. After his turbulent spell as Nigeria coach, he couldn't have wished for an easier first game in charge of Azerbaijan. The opposition were dejected and demoralised. Many of them had not even met each other before. And yet, somehow, Vogts found the needle of embarrassment in the haystack of opportunity. Amid all the nonsense, Bosnia still won 1-0. Truly, Vogts is the king.